Let's talk about The Girls

Can I just get candid here for a moment and share something? Sure I can. Let's talk about breasts.

I'm not what you would call well-endowed in the breast department. If I still had them, I could easily wear the bras I owned back in 8th grade. I actually don't really even need a bra. I remember being fourteen and thinking, "Any day now, they will start growing. Annnnyyy day." Yeah, that day never really came. And I always felt totally cheated. And really kind of down. I felt less shapely, less womanly, and less desirable. I wanted larger breasts so badly that whenever I appeared in my own dreams, I was always a couple cups sizes bigger with glorious cleavage. And then I would wake up and say "good morning" to my teeny-bopper tatinas. I tolerated them, but I didn't love them. I just wasn't super excited about The Girls.

That started to change when I went to college. I ran on the cross country team and, for the first time in my life, got to see other women's bodies in the locker room. Wow - the variety! The beauty! The imperfection! This seemed to be especially true of breasts. I began to realize that very, very few of us are built like the women in the lingerie ads. Very few. And this made me think about myself, and my breasts in a different way. My body education continued when I studied abroad in Morocco. I lived with a family who bathed at the local hammam (public bathhouse) and so guess what - I did, too. The more I saw of womanhood, the more I started to like the hand I had been dealt. 

But it was motherhood that really made me see the light. If I could, I would give my boobs a full salute with canons and marching horses and the works today. I would hold a parade in their honor. Because now I realize that they are perfect. They are team players. They have worked really, really hard for my son and me this past year - and it has not always been easy. Feeding Severen has been the joy of my life.  I enjoyed the quiet moments in those first months when I daydreamed/slept and studied him while he nursed. I enjoy the fun moments now, nursing a 1-year-old, when we chat and play games. Nursing forces both of us to be still, slow down and just hold on to each other: A little boy and his mama enjoying a very small window of precious time.